


Ramen, Pasta, and Fresh Basil

by GhostGarrison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cooking, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: Instead of just ordering pizza for their Netflix date night, Hawke decides to cook for Anders instead. Except the only thing in Anders' cupboards are packages of ramen.





	Ramen, Pasta, and Fresh Basil

Though Anders has been dating Hawke for several months now, this is the first time the man has been inside his apartment. Anders was nervous at first, letting Hawke see his dingy little place he calls home, but he finds it ever so hard saying no to him.

It’s just after their midterm examinations that they decided to get together at his place for pizza and a Netflix binge. Since Hawke is an engineering major, all of his exams fell on the same day, and Anders’ Biology-Politics double major has made the last two days equally hellish.

When Hawke sees the modest kitchen of his one bedroom apartment, he spins on his heel and flashes him a bright smile.

“Hey, instead of pizza, how about I make something instead?”

The offer throws Anders off, wondering why pizza has become unappealing all of the sudden. Sure, it’s no home-cooked meal, but Anders has had very few of those in his adult lifetime. But it’s not until Hawke is reaching for his cupboards that Anders’ mouth catches up with his thoughts.

“No! No, it’s really okay, you don’t have to—”

But it’s too late. Hawke’s eyes widen at the contents of his pantry—or lack thereof.

“There’s only instant ramen in here,” Hawke says carefully, opening another cupboard. “And more ramen.” He turns and looks at Anders, completely aghast. “... Anders, how are you even alive???”

“I get by, okay. I don’t have a lot of time to cook,” Anders says a little defensively. It’s rare enough that he has enough time between classes and his part-time job to spend time with Hawke, actually cooking food is a luxury he can’t afford.

“Well, forget the pizza,” Hawke says after a moment’s pause, determination setting into his voice and features. “We’re going to the market.”

Anders knows from experience that there’s no convincing Hawke once he’s set his mind on something.

Once inside the grocery store a few blocks away, Hawke immediately grabs a shopping basket and hauls toward the aisles. His hand still stays clasped around Anders’, guiding him around to get whatever ingredients for what he has planned.

“Do you like pasta? How about beef?” Hawke asks, staring at the wall of boxes of various noodle shapes.

“Anything,” Anders begins, feeling his stomach growl. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast—a plain bagel from the corner convenience store. He clears his throat and starts again. “Honestly, anything is good.”

“Great!” Hawke beams at him, putting two boxes into the basket hanging from the crook of his elbow. “I know exactly what to make.”

Hawke locates a few other things from around the store, ending in the produce section where they stand looking at various bundles of herbs. Hawke selects something leafy and green, smelling vaguely familiar to Anders.

“What’s that?”

“... You’ve never seen fresh basil before?”

“Not really—stop looking at me like I’m crazy!” Anders says, playfully punching him in the shoulder with his free hand. “My cooking experience is limited ramen, pasta, and cereal.”

“Cereal does not count as cooking,” Hawke quips back, steering them both toward the front to check out. “All you do is pour some milk into it.”

“Fine,” Anders amends. "Then I’m apparently professional in boiling things.”

“Excellent, we’ll put your boiling-powers to good use tonight.”

The moment they get back to Anders’ apartment, Hawke immediately puts him to work. Cooking is a bit more effort than Anders was expecting to do on the last day of exams, but Hawke’s energy is reinvigorating.

The man moves about the small kitchen, humming some top 40′s pop song that’s overplayed on the radio and giving Anders small tasks.

It’s like seeing Hawke in an entirely new element, but one that he looks and feels natural in. He would have never pegged Hawke as a cook, but Anders knows not to underestimate him. Ever since the start, Hawke has shown him so many sides of himself, a truly multitalented individual. It’s all part of “the Hawke allure,” as Hawke once put it.

“Sweet Maker, that smells good,” Anders says, breathing in the smell of cooking beef and pasta sauce. They’re standing shoulder to shoulder at the stove, both pouring over their respective pots and pans. The pasta is taking more time to boil than Anders expected, but it’s also much more than he usually eats... also much more than they’d need for just the two of them.

“Mhm,” Hawke replies, stirring the simmering beef and sauce mixture so it doesn’t burn.

“How did you learn to cook?”

“Well,” Hawke begins, pausing for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Anders sees his expression soften with a far-off look. “My mother was a good cook and I learned most of it from her... But my father was the one who made most of my favorite dishes. He could make the best things just using only a few ingredients. _‘Toss it all together and put it in the oven,’_ he always said. I thought he was a madman, but the dish never turned out wrong.”

Anders listens as Hawke recalls a bit more, remembering his deceased parents fondly. He’s met both of Hawke’s siblings, both attending the same university but two years below them, but the three of them lost their mother when Hawke was only in his first year. Anders didn’t know Hawke at the time, but his heart still hurts for him whenever their conversations brush the sensitive topic.

“This dish’s my favorite. Well, it was the family favorite,” Hawke admits while the dish is in the oven, the corners of his lips turning down as his usual pleasant demeanor fades momentarily. “I just don’t have much opportunity to make it.”

It’s the tone of Hawke’s voice—wistful, a little nostalgic—that makes Anders realize this is Hawke sharing a bit of himself, of his family, through cooking. People deal with things differently, honor their loved ones through whatever traditions they have, and here’s Hawke sharing it with him.

The timer dings and Hawke’s expression immediately snaps back to a lively smile. He springs up from his seat, fetching the pan out of the oven and carrying it to the table.

And, dear Maker, Anders feels like he’s about to have food for the first time.

At Hawke’s insistence—” _real food should be eaten at the table instead of the couch, movies can wait_ ”—they sit at Anders’ tiny kitchen table. The baked ziti on his plate smells glorious, and Anders understands that this is infinitely better than ordering pizza.

Hawke tells him to dig in, but instead of reaching for his fork, Anders reaches across the table and takes Hawke’s hand in his.

“Thank you,” Anders says, not only for the food but the experience they shared together. “This is really wonderful.”

The bright grin on Hawke’s face becomes softer, more sincere and heartfelt. He squeezes Anders’ hand once before pulling away.

“There’s enough left to freeze for the future,” Hawke says, winking, “If you ever grow tired of ramen.”

Anders chuckles, smiling as he starts to eat one of the best meals of his young life.

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, Hawke, I fucking love ramen. Though fresh ramen at restaurants is A++++, better than the instant stuff.
> 
> done as a prompt on tumblr
> 
> find me there @ storybookhawke


End file.
